September 05, 2012

Dedicated to Handwriting

On 24 August, in the 12th year of this 21st century, an unusual monument was unveiled in front of the Ashtabula County Courthouse in Geneva, Ohio. That the monument was dedicated to a citizen who passed away 148 years ago was unusual enough, but what is hard to believe, in this age of digital texting and tapping, was that this man’s claim to fame was handwriting.

Steve Leveen and Michael Sull at the Platt Rogers Spencer dedication

The monument is in the shape of an obelisk and is crowned by a bronze quill. Adorning one side is an image of Platt Rogers Spencer, America’s founding father of handwriting.

Spencer is credited with inventing and disseminating Americans’ own form of handwriting. (Before Spencer, Americans made do with daunting manuals from England and a British script.) Spencerian Script, as it is known among the aficionados who carry on his work today, was the basis for all subsequent forms of handwriting and handwriting instruction taught in the United States, including the Palmer and Zaner-Bloser methods. The latter is still taught in some schools today. Yet Spencer, and his legacy, was all but forgotten a generation ago.

Some thirty years ago, a singular man named Michael Sull became interested in researching the history of handwriting during his quest to become a certified Master Penman, a trade and certification nearly as extinct as the passenger pigeon. Michael wrote the definitive history of Spencer and began, twenty-five years ago, a project called The Spencerian Saga, which, every summer on the shores of Lake Erie, convenes teachers and students intent on passing on the techniques of their master. Through Michael’s untiring efforts and the enthusiastic cooperation of the citizens of Geneva—many of them graduates of the Platt R. Spencer High School—this monument was dedicated on a windy, punishingly hot summer afternoon amidst the roar of passing traffic and periodic blasts of passing train horns.

Michael Sull before Spencer gravesite

Along with Michael, representatives of the Zaner-Bloser Company and the official calligrapher of the White House (no, I didn’t know we had one either), a few people were asked to speak. I was one. In the spirit of authenticity, I wrote my speech by hand—first as ideas on notebook paper, then winnowed down to speaking points on index cards.

First draft of Spencer speech

Below is that speech, or what I meant to say. In the interest of time and temperature, I omitted the story of my grandfather. A few of the other sentences were obliterated by the roars of tractor-trailers and motorcycles.

Second draft of Spencer speech

....

Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for inviting me from hot Florida to come enjoy your summer in Geneva, Ohio. I feel right at home.

As I traveled to attend this event, I couldn’t help wonder what Spencer would think were he among us today. Surely he would be pleased by the accolades, the monument, especially that it is placed in front of the old library that he helped found, and that is now your courthouse. He would, I’m sure, be pleased by the outpouring of enthusiasm for handwriting.

But...what would he think of the iPad?

After the handshakes and embraces, one of us would have to sit down with the great man and an iPad, and show him what’s up.

Anyone want to volunteer for that job?

Spencer Program, Name Tag, and Sample

I suggest you move inside so as not to be distracted by the automobiles and occasional jets flying overhead. Remember, he did pass away in 1864.

On the iPad, you might show him the voice-recognition feature and how he can watch his speech become words on the screen, and then, with a few touches of the glass, how those words can change font and size and color, and, finally, be sent, without a wire, to a printer.

Yet the great man was no stranger to disruptive technological change. Living as he did from 1800 to 1864, Spencer saw the advent and explosive growth of the railroad, and how it utterly transformed the country. Alongside the railroad, literally, he saw the telegraph, which miraculously transformed the letters of the alphabet to dots and dashes sent over unimaginable distances at unimaginable speeds.

In his own field of handwriting, Spencer witnessed the advent of metal dip pens. After two thousand years of writing with bird feathers, his generation saw the arrival of machine-made metal facsimiles of quills that were made with such precision that their delicate tips flexed and spread in a most uniform fashion. These steel nibs were made possible by the same advances in machine technology that made the precise, interchangeable parts needed for the mass production of guns, which were having such devastating effect in the final years of Spencer’s life, coinciding, as they did, with the Civil War.

My guess, being the visionary he was, is that Spencer would adapt fairly quickly to the iPad.

What I think Spencer would have trouble with, however, is...my handwriting.

Yes, I’ve a confession to make—a confession all the more awkward in front of this audience and on this, of all days:

I only print.

Yet I know I am not alone. I frequently hear this admission from our customers, even customers who love pens and paper. They admit it in hushed, apologetic tones.

And that’s not all. Despite their regression to printing, they often pronounce their handwriting unreadable, even to themselves. Usually they compare their handwriting unfavorably with that of their parents, and even more unfavorably with their grandparents’.

This is true in my case in the extreme, for my grandfather was a penmanship instructor.

George W. Knock was born in Frederick, Maryland, in 1898. Tragically, he contracted rheumatic fever as a child, which weakened his heart. This prevented him from serving in the military in World War I, and led eventually to a shortened life. But he was an energetic and enterprising young man.

George W. Knock, Class of 1918 Frederick High School

I have in my home office the framed photograph of his high school graduating class from Frederick High School in 1918. It was an all-male school and as they posed in their uniforms, his face stands out with a watch-out-world-here-I-come expression.

George was interested in new technology and so learned photography and set himself up with a photo studio in New York City. Unfortunately, it failed. He then tried a more established field and enrolled in the Zaner-Bloser school of handwriting in Columbus, Ohio, and set out to become an instructor.

George W. Knock's signature inside his Zanerian Manual

Judging from his work that survives, and from the gold Zaner-Bloser lapel pin I’ve inherited, George excelled at his new field. But I’ve also inherited his gold lapel pins from The Underwood and Remington Typewriter companies, so George learned that technology, too, and went on to a career of teaching both penmanship and office machines in high school in Syracuse, New York.

Like Spencer, my grandfather also saw disruptive technological change in general, and in handwriting in particular. Not only did the typewriter inexorably tap away at the foundation of handwriting’s preeminence, but another technology was responsible for even more undermining. That technology, which went from zero penetration at George’s birth in 1898 to over 75 percent of American homes and virtually all American businesses by the year George died in 1958, was the telephone.

My only memory of my grandfather was straddling his knee, and his only writing addressed to me was his inscription in my copy of Now We Are Six, which he gave to me early, probably knowing he would be unlikely to see my sixth birthday. He died the year I turned four.

I think Spencer would have smiled at my grandfather’s hand, but the great old man would be dismayed at the degraded state of handwriting in America, especially among the young who today are hardly taught at all with pens and paper, while their parents hand iPads over the railings of cribs.

Spencer knew how handwriting naturally promoted reading and learning and provided necessary mind-body awareness and control to children that would pay all dividends for the rest of their lives.

Yet since we’re imagining Spencer being here with us today, let’s go ahead and imagine him hanging out for a few years. For if he did, I’m seeing a smile gradually form and then broaden. I’m seeing all of our smiles broadening, too. For in some years not too distant, we will witness—almost inevitably—a Renaissance in Handwriting.

The truth is: obsolescence is overrated. And, borrowing from Mark Twain, the death of handwriting is exaggerated.

For analogies, all we need to do is look at bicycles and candles.

The fastest form of human transportation in the early 1900s

Bicycles, after a brief period around 1900 of being the fastest form of human transportation, were made obsolete by the automobile. But nobody told the bicycle designers, engineers and marketers who have created a renaissance in two-wheeled transportation. A veritable explosion in specialization, design and technology is delighting billions of people around the planet today.

And candles, which were made obsolete by electric lights more than a century ago, are today everywhere. None of us depend on candles to light our homes, but all of us have candles in our home. Why? Because we understand that we see not only with our eyes but with our hearts, and candles are one of the things that make a house a home.

Older technologies must spend their time in the attic before they are rediscovered. This is happening now with wholesome, heritage foods, and, through the Slow Foods movement, helping us understand that in so much of life, real living isn’t about speed but about savoring.

Mark my words: handwriting will come looping back.

It will be young people who bring it back. Digital Natives is what we call them—these young people who grew up with smartphones and iPads. Sooner or later they will discover that their hands can do things beyond thumb a text message and tap on glass.

Michael Sull's Spencerian script

Thanks to your efforts—the living trustees of our precious human inheritance of handwriting, an inheritance symbolized in this monument to Spencer—young people will be able to rediscover what is theirs. And they will conclude that it is good.

They will assure that beautiful handwriting—and all its many blessings—shall long endure.

And now to you, dear reader: if you could improve or enhance your handwriting—despite texting and tablets and voice-recognition—would you? I’d love to hear. Just click on the Comments link below. (If you’re reading this as an email, click here and you’ll connect to Comments).

Comments

How well I remember struggling with push-pulls and ovals as we were taught the Palmer method! Due to the efforts of my very determined Auntie, I was tested and then promoted into 3rd grade, thus "skipping" second. The only trouble that I remember about that move was that the 3rd graders already knew how to write with pens and ink! So not only did I have to put up with having my pigtails dipped into the inkwell of the boy who sat behind me, but I was very much behind my new classmates who already had mastery of metal pen nibs. Eventually I caught on, but it was probably the hardest thing about 3rd grade for me. Still, I love real handwriting...

I would dearly love to improve my handwriting! I would do a correspondence course for handwriting (pun intended) in a heartbeat. What an awesome thing to teach and learn. This has been one of the most fascinating "Well Reads" I can remember :)

My father and I both love pens and writing implements, especially Levenger's, and we have often remarked that our handwriting is not what we would wish it would be. I just want to be able to do justice to the beautiful pens I get from you :)

I so hope you are correct in your thinking that handwriting will come back. I know for a fact that it is no longer part of the elementary curriculum in Missouri, and hear the laments of friends who must print any letters to their grandchildren, for they cannot read cursive writing. (These are usually letters sent to camp, the one venue that hasn't embraced the digital age!)
I do think you are correct about the discipline of learning cursive writing--being left handed, I struggled with it as a child but I think it was my artistic leanings that made me determined to master it. (Although I must confess I was in my fifties before I finally mastered the upper case G, and still want to put the loop on the wrong side!) I frequently hear comments about how lovely my writing is "for a left handed person," and it has made me think that perhaps there should have been different instructions for those of us who are left handed--I wonder if there were any in the handwriting curriculums you refer to, and if it would have made it any easier for those of us whose hands couldn't move in the prescribed motions.
Your speech also brought back fond memories of my sixth grade teacher, Mr. Kinsella, who not only insisted on cursive writing, but also on fountain pens--instilling a love for them I have to this day. Better tool, better result!

Handwriting is accomplished by a sentient being's manipulation of a writing instrument. An iPad or any other electronic device is dependent upon a battery. If there occurs a CME (Coronal Mass Ejection) from our Sun, which is a possibility in the near future, the operation of such electronics could be compromised. It's nice to have the technology of iPads, but to become dependent on them could bring us unintended consequences. I, for one have grown up before much of the electronic accomplishments were even a glimmer in the minds of their inventors. I use some of them, but I do not depend on them. My handwriting is not very good, however, so I, too, print and I keep several pens handy, just in case I need them.

Yes, I have 2 laptops, a desktop PC, a smartphone, an iPod, a Motorola Zoom, and am planning on getting an iPad-- But I still enjoy picking up my fountain pen (a Parker that I received for my 50th birthday) or a smooth-writing roller ball (Levenger is my favorite, with an extra fine point) or even a ballpoint, and writING with a flourish! My 10- year-old grandaughter also enjoys watching me write and even practice calligraphy as well. It gives me pleasure to form words, letters, sentences, etc. with a pen, by my own hand.

My high school diploma has my name done in Spencerian Script. I knew the man who wrote those names for years in our small town in Kansas. I write many notes for many occasions now. I try to keep my handwriting in good order. I use some of the new equipment these days, still notes hand written. I am 76.
EASproul

Yesterday afternoon I had decided to pull out my Spencerian copy books and practice my skills for two reasons. First, a broken elbow had altered my pen grip and I have not been happy with my penmanship since and second, the task of addressing wedding invitations with that same handwriting with which I was unhappy. I knew I needed the practice, and thus on my lunch hour, the copybook came out. Later that night, I saw your article on Mr. Spencer and laughed at the coincidence.

Spencerian script is not dead. I, along with several friends, still practice it and send letters to each other. It takes a little more time than email or texting, but some things are worth that little bit extra. I may even plan a trip with those friends to see the monument that has been raised in his honor.

Ah, how well I remember the circles and other penmanship practices during writing classes. My penmanship was always difficult to read. I even had trouble at times reading my own handwriting.
When I receive a letter from my relatives in England, I really have difficulty in deciphering their letters. For me, printing helps a lot but I really am trying to improve my handwriting. I do find that there are several types of ball point pens that seem to flow and help me write better. When I find one, I buy several but when I go back to get a replacement I can never seem to find the one I like.
I just stumbled upon another feature of my Android phone... I can just speak into it and it automatically types...Pretty soon, we will not have to even think.. it will all be done for us..

Thanks for sharing that with us. The short history lesson is always interesting. The pictures that go along with it enrich the experience.

My current handwriting is not bad. It's even better when I slow down a bit. I'd have to say that's thanks to my mother, whom I remember spending hours with me as I learned to write incursive, erasing my papers and making me write everything all over again until it met with her satisfaction. It was an experience my other two sisters also had.

Not too long ago, I saw that same behavior from my mother again as she sat with her youngest grandson working with him on writing, erasing everything he'd done and saying "do it again, but this time neater." I had to smile in understanding at his wails of protest. He will be thankful for the time spent later in life if he keeps up her standards of penmanship. In some homes penmanship is still important and can't be replaced with typewritten words issuing forth from a printer.

Even though I wrote at the top of my comment that my penmanship is not bad, I still think one day I'll take up the task of improving it. When I do, unlike you, I'll have to search around for a good instruction book.

To have your grandfather's penmanship books on hand is a wonderful thing for you. If you ever decide to practice your penmanship, his book will be there for you and his writing samples will be your guide to judge how you match up to his standards.

I have long kept a paper journal. Once, long ago, someone saw me writing in it and remarked how atrocious my penmanship was. I had to agree and resolved then and there to improve it. For a year I practiced a classic italic script every night using a Sailor fountain pen with a music nib. My everyday writing is now based on that classic italic font. Recently I have been pondering teaching myself a classic script, so seeing this post was most timely. I love the challenge, and the only reason I hesitate is alluded to above: in a hundred years hence will anyone other than a scholar be able to read script?

Wow, very interesting article. I wrote months back about the lost art of handwriting and how I think our children are missing out. You can read it here http://organizingguru.hubpages.com/hub/The-Lost-Art-of-Handwriting. I would love to read more about this guy and handwriting. I think we should at least for a second put down our iPads and laptops and write before we forget how. Thanks for sharing.

It seems my previous comment did not post. My bad, I think.
...
Anyway, I just wanted to thank you, Steve, for the handwriting article and commend Mr. Michael Sull for his efforts.
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Also, I asked about trains being faster than bicycles....(this should make my first post clearer)
;-)

I loved the blog as it brought back memories of my red brick elementary school with its rows of wooden desks with inkwells, oak floors and large windows to the ceiling that let the sunlight stream in. It sounds like the 1800's but it was 1950's Denver - I believe the school was built in the late 1890's. We were taught cursive writing, first with pencil and then with a "fill-able" fountain pen. I remember blue finger tips and smudged paper but was delighted when I received a star for my efforts.

Today, I have a MacBook, iPad, iPhone, iPod, plus my office PC, but I still write by hand every day. My colleagues often comment on my writing as I'm making notes during our meetings. Today, handwriting is seen as something of an art, but years ago it was considered a skill as necessary to communication as arithmetic was to managing the household accounts. Everyone learned how to master it.

I believe you are correct that the art of penmanship will return as a new generation discovers the warmth of the personal touch that is the hand written note, or the hand made gift.

Thanks to Levenger, we have a source of fine writing materials to keep the art alive!